


No one else...

by notjustmom



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Established House/Wilson, Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, Smidge Of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:28:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: Just a bit of House and Wilson... in this verse, Stacy never existed, and they were together before the aneurysm, and stayed together.
Relationships: Greg House/James Wilson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 114





	No one else...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blue_Posey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Posey/gifts).



Wilson rolled over in his sleep to find House sitting in the chair next to the couch, where he had dozed off waiting for him to come home. He narrowed his eyes at him, then grumbled quietly, as he rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to know, do I?”

“Why are you with me?” House asked, arms crossed, and that familiar petulant look in his eyes.

“Is this going to be another round of twenty questions?” He sighed as House looked down at his hands and shrugged, and knew without a doubt that neither of them would get any more sleep that night unless they talked. 

House had his moments of doubt like this every so often, more often than not, he supposed, hell, he had his own at times, when he wondered why exactly he was still there after all these years. He sat up and slid his legs over the side of the couch and placed his hands on House’s knees.

“Why am I with you?”

“I do believe that was the question.”

“Okay. You make me laugh, especially on those days when there is nothing to laugh about.”

“Most idiots can make you laugh.”

It was one of those nights. Hell. Wilson reached up and cradled House’s face in his hands, waiting until he met his eyes, then began. “I remember when I thought I would lose you, and the weeks when I did lose you. I would sit by your bed and hold your hand, and tell you about my patients and the crappy food in the cafeteria, and then I would have to come home alone without you, and make myself go to sleep so I could function enough the next day. No. You’re not easy, in fact, most days you are the world’s biggest pain in the ass, but, honestly, my life would be - well, boring without you. And the fact is, I love you. Yeah, I know, weakness of mine, one of many as you well know. I love that you drive me crazy. I love that you steal my food, okay, maybe not that so much - I love listening to you play the piano when you know I’ve lost a patient, and all I want to do is not talk about it. You know me, all my strengths, and weaknesses, House. You know just how hard to push me, and then - you are -”

“What?”

“Do you remember, when you opened your eyes for the first time, after -?”

“You were sitting there, hadn’t slept for two days, at least -”

“You told me, ‘you look like hell, Wilson.’ and then you smiled at me. Not your usual wise-ass smirk, and in spite of the pain you were in, it was one of the most beautiful smiles I’ve ever seen and you reached for my hand, and you -”

“I promised you I wouldn’t ever leave you again.”

“And you haven’t.”

House looked into the eyes he knew so well, and without another word, leaned closer and kissed Wilson’s forehead, then sat back and nodded sharply at him before slowly getting to his feet and offering Wilson his hand. “Bed. You know sleeping on that couch is crap for your back.” 

Wilson rolled his eyes at him, but nodded, and slowly unrolled from the couch, then wrapped his arm around House’s waist as he helped him limp to their bedroom. He sat him on the edge of the bed, then knelt in front of him, and helped him out of his khakis, keeping his eyes locked on House’s, remembering just for the briefest of moments the first time he had allowed him to undress him like this, and he knew House was remembering the same thing, as he shivered at his touch. 

“You’re perfect.”

“And you’re an idiot,” House snorted at him, then started on the buttons on Wilson’s shirt, making short work of it.

“You’re perfect for me. No one else -” he closed his eyes as House helped him from the floor, and sighed as he felt the long fingers push off the sweats he had changed into that evening, and then his arms wrapped around him and he leaned into him, letting out a deep sigh of relief, probably the first real breath he had taken all day, and Wilson pushed his fingers into his hair, and whispered, “no one else could ever love me the way you do.”


End file.
